


I'll Be There For You

by Isilarma



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Groot is a BAMF, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Team, Rocket's Not Used To This
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 04:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2096145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isilarma/pseuds/Isilarma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Rocket has faith in anything, it's that Groot will never let him down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be There For You

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Tenebrielle and Red Bess Rackham for the beta!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.

There are some things about his new friends that Rocket can deal with. Quill’s incessant talking, Gamora’s tendency to leave weapons everywhere, even Drax’s inability to comprehend even simple metaphors. He can handle that. He can even put up with having three times as many bounty hunters on their trail, and the fact that Groot’s started dropping flowers every time his pot’s moved.

But there are some things that he’s really, really not prepared to deal with.

“Quill, when was the last time you did any maintenance on this piece of junk?”

Quill looks insulted. “What’re you talking about? My baby’s in great shape.”

“By whose standards?”

“Hey! I was taught by the best engineers the Ravagers have.”

Rocket looks round. “Yeah. I can see that.” It’s not the worst he’s seen, but still... He scowls and jumps to his feet. “All right, out.”

“What?”

“If we’re staying on this thing, I’m not having it fall out of the sky any second. Also, it’s filthy.” Peter opens his mouth, but Gamora lays a hand on his arm.

“He can’t help being a perfectionist. It’ll make him happy, and it won’t do any harm. Besides, this place _is_ filthy.”

Quill gapes at her. “You can’t kick me off my own ship! Tell them, Drax.”

Drax tilts his head to one side. “The green warrior is fully capable of kicking you off the ship.”

Rocket smirks. It’s taken a while, but Gamora eventually made it clear that continuing to call her whore would not be good for anyone’s health. Quill pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s not, oh whatever.” He glares at Rocket. “You better not mess up my tape deck.”

“Is your tape deck connected to your flight stabilisers?”

“Of course not.”

“Then you’re fine. Unless you don’t get out in the next ten seconds.”

Quill’s gone before Rocket even starts counting. Gamora smirks at him. “I’ll keep him out of the way. The ride was getting a little bumpy.”

Rocket grins back. It’s good to know he has an ally. Drax nods and rises to his feet. “I will follow friend Quill also. He always finds the best drinking establishments.”

“True,” Rocket agrees. Quill has many flaws, but in certain matters he has excellent taste. He catches Gamora rolling her eyes as she follows Drax out, but his mind is already moving over the modifications he wants to make. He glances at Groot. “I need to check some bits underneath. Wanna come?”

“I am Groot?”

“Yeah, but it’s polite to ask.” Groot just looks at him. “I can be polite!”

“I am Groot.”

Rocket huffs. “Yeah, well, it’s a good thing the others can’t understand what you’re saying half the time either.” He grunts as he hefts his friend’s pot. “You’re getting heavy.”

“I am Groot.”

“You’re staying in there until I say so.”

“I am Groot.”

“Do you want to regrow properly or not?” Groot grows a frown, and he snorts. “Don’t you try that face on me, I know better.” 

Climbing out of the ship with a pot that’s nearly as big as he is isn’t easy, but Rocket manages. Groot sulks all the way out, but he perks up when Rocket sets him on the ground next to him. The light in the hanger isn’t as good as the sun lamps Rocket built for him, but the air is considerably fresher than that in the ship. He jiggles and stretches, and Rocket can’t suppress a faint smile. “Yeah, enjoy it while you can, buddy. We’re gone as soon as I’m done.”

“I am Groot.”

Rocket sighs. “Yes, we can find somewhere nice.” He’s glad the others aren’t around, he’d never live this down, but this is Groot, and he deserves it. “But if Quill asks, it’s because we need fresh supplies.”

Groot shakes in the way that Rocket has come to recognise as meaning laughter. Rocket shakes his head and turns to the ship. “All right, keep it down, will ya? I need to concentrate.”

“I am Groot.”

The two of them spend the next hour in a companionable silence. Rocket’s pleased to find that the engines aren’t nearly as messed up as he expects. True, he can see many areas of improvement, but Quill hasn’t done a bad job. A couple of hours, and this’ll be the smoothest ride in the quadrant.

Of course, this is his life and nothing ever goes smoothly. Not even a couple of hours fixing what, he’ll never admit, is a pretty cool ship.

He’s never sure if it’s some animal instinct, something left over from before the experiments. Maybe he just has a really awesome nose. Whatever it is, he’s gotten very good at smelling out trouble.

“I am Groot?”

And Groot’s gotten very good at picking up on it. Rocket glances at him. “Back in a second.”

“I am Groot.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t move.” 

He leaves before Groot can reply. He isn’t particularly worried, after Ronan there’s very little that he sees as a threat, but Groot worries. A lot, especially at the moment. It’s so sweet it’s giving Rocket cavities. All the same, he grabs the gun he keeps in arm’s reach. No sense in taking chances. Rocket slips round the side of the ship, all his senses straining for whatever fired his instincts.

He gets an inkling when the most horrible noise he has ever heard pierces the air.

Rocket’s heard some a lot of horrible things. It comes with having hearing as awesome as his. This is another league though; the pitch and volume are higher than anything he’s ever heard and it burns through his skull like a laser saw. Holding onto the gun is impossible, let alone aiming. Actually, doing anything other than curling into a ball and covering his ears is impossible. Part of him hopes that Groot’s all right, but the rest is too preoccupied with trying not to whimper like the animal everyone says he is.

Rocket’s so out of it that the hand that grabs at the scuff of his neck takes him completely by surprise. Fortunately, he’s not so out of it that he can’t twist round and sink his teeth into the bastard’s wrist.

The taste is disgusting, but the screech of pain makes up for it. All traces of satisfaction fade though when he’s slammed against the side of the ship hard enough that stars explode in front of his eyes. This time he can’t stop the yelp that escapes him, but the hideous screech is still playing, and his head is killing him, and he doesn’t think anyone can blame him for that. His head is so bad he can’t even see who’s attacking him, and that brings back far too many memories for comfort, and that’s just too much to take.

Then there’s a new noise. A familiar noise. The familiar noise of an angry Groot.

Except Groot’s in a pot, and he can’t help, and if he does try to help he’ll be killed, and Rocket’s had quite enough of seeing Groot get killed to be getting on with, and now the guy’s deciding to drop him, and that really doesn’t help, and maybe it’s just time to close his eyes now, but he needs to help Groot...

Although from the very little Rocket can make out, Groot doesn’t actually need his help right now.

In the end, it's not his choice to make. The noise intensifies, and Rocket's world dissolves into darkness.

\---

Waking up isn’t fun. It’s so not fun that Rocket immediately decides he doesn’t want to. His head is pounding as it is; he has no desire to find out what’ll happen if he tries to open his eyes, let alone move. No, the dark is nice, and staying still is very nice, and that’s quite enough for now.

“Come on, buddy, we need to get a look at him.”

If only Quill would shut up for two minutes. Were all Earthers allergic to silence? Then again, it would be just his luck to get the one who was.

“Groot, please be reasonable. We’re not going to hurt him.”

Gamora’s agreeing with Quill. Whatever’s going on must be important. Not important enough to wake up for though, and Rocket nestles deeper into the safety of Groot’s arms.

Wait a second.

Opening his eyes hurts. Moving hurts a hell of a lot more. But Rocket ignores the pain, and the nausea, and Quill’s extensive vocabulary of swear words, and Gamora’s soft hiss in favour of glaring in the direction Groot’s eyes should be.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarls. Or tries to. It’s hard to snarl properly when you’re seeing three of everything.

“Woah, take it easy,” Quill exclaims. His hands are gentle as they support Rocket’s back, mindful of his implants, but Rocket still lets out a growl and twists away. He immediately regrets it as the world starts doing somersaults before his eyes, but Quill’s still there, and now branches are wrapping around his torso again. He’s grateful for the support, but at the same time...

“Idiot,” he manages. “You're not supposed to be this big this fast.” The branches tighten ever so slightly in reassurance, but Rocket won’t be placated that easily. “Supposed to be taking it easy.”

“I am Groot.”

“Well, it matters to me,” he snarls, and even he’s surprised by the strength he manages. It’s not exactly strength he can afford though, and he has to let his eyes slide shut. “Could have been killed.”

“I am Groot.”

“Not while you’re recovering from the last time you were blown to bits you couldn’t.”

Groot says nothing, but a twig brushes ever so gently over Rocket’s ears. Rocket sighs and slumps down. “Idiot.”

“I am Groot.”

Then Rocket feels himself being lifted. The motion aggravates his nausea and he can’t suppress a hiss, but it's only moments before he’d deposited with infinite gentleness in his bunk. He cracks open one eyes long enough to see Groot standing protectively nearby before Gamora perches on the edge of the bed next to him, a medical kit in her hand.

“Rocket, I need you to tell me where it hurts.”

“Head,” he mutters. It’s better now that he’s stopped moving, but the whirr of the scanner is still enough to start sparks dancing in front of his eyes again. Then a hypospray is pressed against his arm, and the resulting relief is enough to make him groan aloud. Gamora shuts the kit and gives him a small smile.

“No real damage. You need rest more than anything.”

Rocket nods, but now that the pain’s manageable he’s got more important things to worry about. “What about the krutacks who attacked us? Whoever they are, they knew what they were doing.”

Gamora’s expression hardens. “Drax and Peter are disposing of the bodies.”

Rocket stares at her. “Bodies? But we don’t know what they wanted.”

Groot ducks his head. “I am Groot,” he says quietly.

All Rocket’s anger vanishes in an instant. “Nah, I’d have done the same thing.”

Groot’s enormous brown eyes soften in gratitude. He’s just opening his mouth when a clatter announces the arrival of the rest of their friends.

“Well, we don’t need to worry about being arrested at least,” Quill announces. He leans against the wall next to Groot, his eyes searching Rocket’s body. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Rocket growls. Groot’s going to be bad enough, the last thing he needs is for all of them to be making a fuss. Drax frowns at him. 

“You do not look fine.”

“I am Groot.”

Rocket glares at them. “What the hell do you expect?” Being attacked was bad, but at least he was used to it. Being attacked for no reason and ending up a whining mess? That was something else. He ducks his head, a low growl rising in his throat. Why was it always him?

Quill’s grin doesn’t falter, but his eyes harden. “Well, it doesn’t matter if they’re dead. We’re still gonna find out what they wanted. You can count on that.”

Drax blinks at him. “What exactly would we be counting?”

Quill rolls his eyes, the solemn moment completely lost. “It means we’re going to find out what’s going on, and kick the asses of whoever was stupid enough to think it up.”

Rocket stares at him, his surprise deepening when Gamora nods in agreement. Her expression is colder than it’s been in a long time. Drax, however, just tilts his head to one side. “That would not be appropriate.”

“Oh, thanks,” Rocket mutters.

“They deserve a drawn out and painful death. I advocate ripping their organs out one at a time.”

Quill claps him on the back. “That’s the spirit, buddy.”

Gamora looks thoughtful. “There are many things we could do before the organ removal takes place.”

Quill and Drax look at each other, identical grins spreading across their faces. Rocket stares at them, and at Gamora, and has to look away. He’s getting used to living with other people, even to having friends, but people defending him? That’s going to take a little bit longer.

“I am Groot,” Groot rumbles softly.

Rocket swallows away a surge of nausea. It’s definitely nausea. Definitely not anything else. “You’d better let me shoot them first,” he mutters.

Quill smiles, and for once there’s no trace of his typical cockiness. “Hey, what else are we here for?” He reaches over and scratches lightly between Rocket’s ears. Only for a second, but the contact soothes Rocket far more than he will ever admit. Quill’s smile widens and he straightens up. “Get some rest, buddy. We’ll go shoot people when you’re better.”

Sleep is sounding like an excellent idea, but first... “I’m not going to sleep until Groot gets back in his pot.”

“I am Groot.”

“Then we’ll get a bigger pot, but you’re not fully grown, and you know it, and I’m not going to sleep until you admit it.”

“I swear I used that argument when I was five,” Quill remarks.

Gamora rolls her eyes. “Go to sleep, Rocket. We’ll handle this.”

Rocket intends to stay awake and make sure, but he’s definitely losing the struggle to keep his eyes open now. It takes the last of his energy to look over at Groot. Talking is way too much effort, but Groot pets him lightly between his ears and Rocket knows he got the message.

“We are Groot.”

Yeah. There are some things he could definitely get used to.


End file.
